


A Walk in the Moonlight

by vanillafluffy



Category: The Three Investigators | Die drei ??? - Various Authors, The Trixie Belden Mysteries - Julie Campbell Tatham & Kathryn Kenny
Genre: Childhood Memories, Creepy Fluff, Egregious Stephen King references, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Moonlight, Movie Reference, Spooky, Supernatural Elements, halloween party, spooky shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 13:42:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15973496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillafluffy/pseuds/vanillafluffy
Summary: In which our boys find a little more than they bargained for in the barn.For the prompt, "Supernatural elements".





	A Walk in the Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brumeier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/gifts).



> Set a couple weeks after "Spaghetti and Strategy".

The Halloween party is in full swing, but Dracula and Frankenstein wander off together around midnight, holding hands by moonlight. Drac and Frank--known the other 364 nights of the year as Mart Belden and his boyfriend, Ben Norris--head away from the dome and its revelers to the barn by unspoken agreement. Trixie clearly has a handle on things inside, and they both need some fresh air.

Guests’ cars are parked between the dome and the barn. Most of the partying is inside, although an enterprising couple are apparently having a lively time of it in Baby, parked out front beside their makeshift graveyard.

The quiet barn houses the pride of Belden Farms, their shining new (to them) SSR, a sleek silver pickup with the soul of a convertible. After reluctantly deciding a few weeks ago that it was time to retire Baby, the big blue hearse needed to go in for a new fan belt; their mechanic was selling the SSR for the widow of the original owner. Although it’s fifteen years old, it’s in like-new condition with fewer than 30,000 miles on it.

“She’s beautiful,” Mart sighs, arm around his partner’s waist. “I just can’t decide what to call her.”

Ben chuckles. He’s almost a head taller than Mart, and very slim, which makes him the natural choice for Frankenstein--although his peroxide-blond mop has led their friend Jupiter to suggest there’s a Rocky Horror crossover going on. “So, you think cars are shes, like ships?” he teases.

Mart has thrown a cheap polyester cape on over an ordinary tee shirt and jeans, added some fake wax fangs and left it at that. This being Southern California, It would have been easy enough to get movie-grade dentition, but all his spare cash is currently resting on the four wheels in front of them. 

He shrugs. “Merely an atavistic impulse to anthropomorphize a cherished inanimate object.”

“The Grey Ghost?” His partner suggests.

“The Ghost was a famous Rolls Royce--I wouldn’t want them to pursue litigation!” Mart pretends to shudder at the thought, then he grins. “Although if I were going to leave myself open for a charge of plagiarism, I’d prefer it was something a trifle more butch.” 

“What are you thinking?” Ben recognizes his partner’s expression.

“The Silver Bullet.”

“Wasn’t that a movie? Where the kid in a wheelchair gets chased by a werewolf--”

“An extremely badass movie!” Mart is gleeful. “I remember watching it one time with Brian when the folks were out somewhere--it was _not_ the sort of thing Moms would’ve allowed!--and I loved it!”

“Fine by me, Daddy-o. I hereby christen you the Silver Bullet!” Ben waves negligently at the vehicle. “Although I’ll be happy as long as it isn’t Christine!”

Mart shakes his head. “Obviously, neither of us is that superstitious,” he says with a smile, “Or we wouldn’t be standing here in a dark barn, at midnight, on Halloween, discussing Stephen King movies. That’s just asking for trouble!”

Ben shivers in spite of himself. “Have you ever seen anything really spooky? I mean, that you couldn’t explain?”

“After extensive research, I’m forced to conclude that any supernatural manifestations are engineered by our own imaginations.” He starts to laugh. “Like Bobby and the elephants!”

Ben hasn’t met the youngest Belden sibling (or Brian, the oldest, for that matter), but he understands who his lover is talking about. “Elephants?”

“He couldn’t have been more than seven…the Bob-Whites came back from seeing a suspense film at the Cameo--I don’t remember what--and while we were discussing it over burgers, I said something about the supernatural elements in the plot. Bobby had seen some old cartoon with pink elephants in it…the concept was kind of advanced for him…anyway, he had nightmares, and the next morning at breakfast he was blubbering about the supernatural elephants coming after him to squash him.”

“That’s cute. How old is he now?”

“He’s going to be fourteen next month.”

“Wow, that’s quite an age gap.”

“Yeah…he’s six years younger than Trixie. And we wouldn’t have him if it wasn’t for her.”

“How’s that? Did you catch her poking holes in your Dad’s condoms?”

“No, when he was six, he got bitten by a copperhead snake. He and Trixie were alone on the farm, but she kept her head, did first aid and got help, otherwise, things might’ve ended tragically.” He sounds so uncharacteristically sober that Ben hugs him. “Speaking of my stalwart sister, I suppose we ought to go give her a hand….”

Something crackles nearby. The two fall silent, listening to the straw rustling. It comes closer, only feet away, but there’s nothing there! Mart thinks he sees something move out of the corner of his eye. From the spasm of Ben’s hand, he saw it too. There’s a blur of movement. 

In the dim light, they observe a rock come to rest in the moonlight just outside the barn door. Looking from the projectile to the interior of the barn, there’s no sign of what threw it….

Ben is gripping Mart hand like an iron vise. 

_The stone moves without being touched._

From over toward the greenhouse, a frog croaks, causing them both to start. Their “rock” belches a reply and hops off in that direction.

“As I asserted previously--imagination!” Mart’s voice is a little shaky. “Shall we head back to the dome? Last one there’s a rotten egg!”

“Wait for me!”

…


End file.
